


Playing at Goodbye

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, for anyone who is feeling like shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7797934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux and Kylo are students who are working at the same cafe in London. Hux is soon due to graduate, Kylo is behaving like a love sick teenager. </p><p>--</p><p>“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Kylo says with a smile, reaches behind himself, takes a cinnamon roll from amongst the pastries and ducks under Rey’s arm.</p><p>“I am serious, Kylo!” Rey shouts after him. “Being around that much pining is sickening!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing at Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> ive decided to write this as an indefinite "farewell" to the fandom as it feels like the appropriate time to just step down. please dont get me wrong, this doesnt mean that i will stop contributing any fic what so ever, it just means that i will take long break and then be much less active and only post at the minimum of a work per several months (?). there is other shit to do outside of the interwebs 
> 
> i would also like to dedicate this fic to [Isabelle](http://accidental-amidala.tumblr.com/) who is one of the kindest and sweetest people i have ever known. thank you for helping me, encouraging me and most of all being such a wonderful person. i love you a stupid amount you sparkle toot, but goddamit did we have to meet through this down right awful fandom? 
> 
> anyway. i've decided not to tag certain things as i felt that it wasnt necessary (a golden star to anyone figures out what it is). Go ahead and punch me in the kidney on [tumblr](http://beeeeebeeee.tumblr.com/)

The words and statistics rise up in front of Finn’s eyes like the bubbles in the metal jug under the steam wand. Symptoms, diagnosis, first courses of action. Last week he had woken up muttering paragraphs from the textbook that lied across his face. The glossy pages had squeaked down Finn’s cheeks before flopping into his lap.

Rubbing his hands over his eyes again, Finn sighs and stares down at the jug of steamed milk. With splutters from the machine, the milk is quickly poured to form a frothy latte and the cup is placed onto the tray where the cutlery and the pastry are already waiting.

Wiping down the dampness of his palms on the apron Finn picks up the tray and carries it to the customer at the corner table beside the window. Outside, the shops, restaurants and cafes of Kingly Court are already growing busy with the early afternoon traffic as the small courtyard with picnic tables under sun umbrellas fills with families and couples.

When Finn comes back to the counter of the café Rey is sliding fresh cinnamon rolls and strawberry tarts onto the display. It’s still sometime before the evening rush and they are trying to prepare before there isn’t even enough time to take a breath.

Tray still in hand, Finn watches as Rey places down the last of the pastries and brushes back the stray wisps of her hair that have escaped the interact network of small braids and buns. There are faint stains of car grease on Rey’s white t-shirt – she must’ve spent the morning in the garage before coming into work.

When Rey looks up, her face is lit up by the summer sunlight pouring in through the floor length windows, bringing golden radiance to her heat-flushed cheeks.

“You okay?” Rey asks as she puts aside the oven trays, noticing the look on Finn’s face like he has just been punched in the stomach.

“Fine,” Finn manages to squeak.

“Have you been falling asleep on your books again?” Rey leans against the glass display, smiling softly. “Poe told me when you wouldn’t reply to any calls or texts he came over to check if you’re alive and found your drooling under a pile of textbooks.”

“I missed a lecture,” mutters Finn, turning the round tray in his hands as he walks to the open flap in the counter. “And hey! It was _once_ —!”

Rey only laughs and when Finn walks into the space behind the counter, she steps in front of him and presses a brief, chaste kiss to his lips. Though the café is fairly empty at this hour, Rey quickly turns away and throws a smile over her shoulder at Finn who stares at her – star struck.

The mellow atmosphere does not last as something crashes in the storage room. The customers inside the café look up, abruptly halting their conversations. Something rattles again but the sound is almost entirely covered by the constant patter of footsteps and clattering of cutlery in the nearby restaurants and the surrounding streets.

People quickly lose interest in the brief commotion and return to their food and drink. Only the two employees are left staring at the door as the handle jiggles with faint squeaks.

Suddenly, the doorway bursts open and the pungent smell of vanilla syrup fills the air. Rey jumps out of the way just in time as a tall figure tumbles out into the cramped space behind the counter where the stacked cups jingle dangerously.

“—So you better goddamn watch yourself!” a voice shouts from the room hidden out of view.

“Or _what_?” spits back the tall man, clenching his hands into fists as if he is preparing for a fight. Damp and smelling of vanilla, his hair sticks to his flushed face and wet patches decorate his grey t-shirt and the haphazardly tied black apron.

Before he can charge back into the room in the search of a fist fight, the end of a bedraggled mop appears out from the doorway and prods the man squarely in the chest, leaving another damp patch. “You know exactly what, _Kylo_.”

Taking hold of the mop by its handle, Kylo jerks it toward himself and forces the person on the other end to stumble out.

Looking equally damp, Hux glares at Kylo, his hands in a white knuckled grip on the mop. With a quick jab he manages to push Kylo away and slap down the mop before righting the stiff collar of his white shirt and brushing back the stray pieces of his ginger hair.

“What the hell happened to you two?” Rey asks, trying to stay clear of the gathering pools of vanilla syrup on the floor.

“Someone,” Hux spits, kicking forward a bucket of soapy water from out of the doorway, “clearly forgot how to coordinate his stupid limbs. Hence this—” He nods to the mess. “Now, _please_ , get out of my way.”

“Huh,” is all Rey manages before she and Finn move off to clean the tables, assured that there is no imminent danger of homicide. Outside of work they have known Kylo and Hux to get into fist fights and usually one of them ended up on the floor with the other twisting the victim’s arms behind their back. But it’s nothing to be concerned about.

With Kylo stood to the side and dripping syrup onto the floor, Hux begins to drag the mop across the stone tiles, jabbing it against the toes of Kylo’s converse.

“I swear,” mutters Hux, “you are more of an issue than help.” Some of the water sloshes out of the bucket as Hux jams the mop inside, washing it of the syrup. “If the management fired you, the problems would be halved and more money would be saved. But no!” There is another slosh of water across the floor and Kylo winces.

The syrup is becoming gummy where it has dripped onto Kylo’s hair and clothes, clinging onto his skin with the tacky sweat from the city summer heat – doing nothing to ease Kylo’s discomfort and irritation.

Grabbing a rag from the counter Kylo soaks it under the tap of the small sink beside the espresso machines and scrubs at his t-shirt, his fringe sticking to his face as he tries not to listen to Hux who is muttering insults under his breath. Kylo doesn’t take any of it to heart, knowing it’s more the heat of the day rather than the mess.

It has been almost two years since Kylo and Hux begun working together at the same café in Kingly Court. They have never gotten along, but their equal contempt for the majority of the people around them allowed them to form a mutual understanding that lasts somewhere up until the bodily tackles to the floor and choker holds.

However, work was not where they first met.

“Oh for goodness sake—!”

The rag is ripped out of Kylo’s hands and he is yanked around by his shoulder. With his hair pushed out of his face and the edge of the wet cloth is brushed against Kylo’s cheeks and forehead where the syrup has been forming slow trails.

The most unfortunate set of events that led to Kylo meeting Hux happened in the central library of the University College of London at the beginning of an academic year when Kylo started his postgraduate programme. He was making a beeline through the business and law section on the way to the elevators with a fresh pile of books for the first semester when he caught his foot on the leg of a table.

Of course, Kylo managed to come sprawling across the floor – getting the most hideous carpet burn in the process – and fall at the feet of a very handsome stranger as the majority of the library floor watched him in part irritation and part curiosity.

Perhaps it was how Kylo continued to stare up at Hux from where he lied under the pile of books that made Hux sniff daintily and step over him – making sure that Kylo got a very good view of his high-end black leather borgues.

About a week later they were introduced by their employer. Being forced to work under Hux’s burning stare made Kylo want to quit around an hour into the shift but the notion of money made him persevere.

Eventually, even if snapping comments were involved, they managed to work around their animosity toward each other and found common ground.

Unfortunately, the peace seems to have only been developed at the end of their time of knowing each other; Hux is soon due to graduate with a doctorate in architecture and in the meantime Kylo still has a year ahead of him before he completes his English Literature course and moves back to America.

As much as Kylo would hate to admit, he is about as awe struck as the day he found himself on the carpet on the library staring up at Hux, wondering if he has landed himself in a cheesy romance. However, graduation is nearing with every week and Kylo is dreading the day that Hux clears out his apartment and moves to Edinburgh for a work opportunity.

For months Kylo has been planning on making his move but he still has yet to say something to Hux.

Running the tap, Hux wets his hands under the stream and starts to work the syrup out of Kylo’s hair before tugging off the elastic off Kylo’s wrist and scraping his hair back into a rough pony and bundling it into a knot. The rag is shoved into Kylo’s hands and Hux returns to mopping the floor.

Fiddling with the loose threads of the cloth Kylo scrapes the last of the sugar from his fingers, trying to ignore how warm his face feels.

After throwing away the paper towels he used to dry himself off, Kylo continues to putter about behind the counter; with Finn and Rey managing the customers there is not much left to do and Hux wouldn’t allow Kylo to help him clean. After all, he would only cause more issues.

So instead of getting in the way, Kylo wipes down the equipment that creates a barrier between the customers and the small working space for the employees. Every damp surface he touches leaves Kylo’s hands stained from ground coffee and tacky from the spilled milk. Working at the café Kylo can never clean out the smell of coffee from his clothes and the skin of his palms seems to be permanently a shade darker.

The mop collides with Kylo’s ankles, budging him closer to the counter. “Excuse me, _darlin_ ’,” Hux says distractedly.

The nickname makes Kylo flinch, an uncomfortable feeling settling on his shoulders. He knows that Hux’s doesn’t mean anything by it; he uses sugar sweetened pet names as death threats instead of throwing curses in front of the patrons. Hux doesn’t mean anything by it but it still hits Kylo the wrong way.

“Hux,” Kylo mutters – still refusing to step aside.

“Hm?” Hux glances up, the perpetually nonchalant yet irritated look on his face.

“Can you… Can you not call me that?”

“What?”

Kylo frowns at him.

“Oh—!” Hux’s eyes widen with realisation. “I apologise.”

Kylo mutters thanks and continues to scrub coffee stains from the granite.

The rest of the drying syrup is quickly cleared away and the mop and bucket are shoved back into their corner. The hour creeps by slowly as shadows turn in the courtyard. Customers come and go as the smell of brewing coffee continues to fill the café.

Thankfully, during the evening no more cutlery is broken or syrup spilled from Kylo staring at Hux for too long and forgetting that walking requires conscious coordination of limbs. He honestly did not intend of crashing into a storage shelf and taking Hux down with him. If Kylo had known that it would result in being beaten by a mop, he would have been much more cautious.

Kylo is helping Rey to change the coffee filters when he notices the clock above the display of the menu. The glossy sky blue face is constantly falling down askew over the chalkboards, sometimes crashing down onto the floor at the most unexpected moment, and Kylo has to slightly tilt his head to read the time.

The espresso machine lid almost crashes down onto Rey’s head when Kylo suddenly pulls back. She goes to kick his shins but Kylo jumps out of the way quickly enough and calls across the café, “Hux!”

The said man appears out from around the corner, carrying two trays piled with empty cups and plates that are ruffled with used napkins.

Kylo leans over the counter and quickly snatches the trays before dumping them somewhere in Rey’s direction.

“What are you doing?” Hux snaps as he tries to swat away Kylo who is turning him around and pulling the bow of his apron before yanking it over Hux’s head.

“Lunch break!” Kylo yells as he finally manages to dislodge the apron from Hux and stuff it somewhere under the counter. Kylo tucks the skirt of his own apron behind the tie, making himself look like a dishevelled pigeon in the process.

Slightly ruffled, Hux glances at the clock and rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he mutters before eyeing Finn out among the tables and heading toward him.

Kylo goes to follow Hux but he is pulled back by the ties of his apron. Turning around, he flinches at the stony look that Rey gives him.

“Are you going to ask him?” Rey asks, her cold expression refusing to ease off as she corners Kylo.

“Ask who what?” Kylo tries to slip toward the flap of the counter but Rey slams her hand down on the glass display, placing a barrier between Kylo and his escape route.

“Stop acting stupid!” Rey snaps, her face drawn into an irritated pout. “You are going to tell Hux how you feel about him _or_.” She picks up a can of whipped cream that stands beside the milkshake glasses. “This is gonna go where the sun doesn’t shine.”  

Apparently, the issue is more obvious than Kylo had suspected and Rey is finally stepping in to sort it out – like an adult.

Sometimes, it feels to Kylo as if his is the baby cousin instead of Rey. She had been the one who convinced him to move to England for his education – he won’t be on his own as Rey and her dad, Luke, already live here – since it would be a good idea for him to spend some time away from his family after things getting rough. Of course, she was right.

Kylo had supposed that in time Rey would also go to UCL or any other university leading in engineering and electronics, but instead she took an apprenticeship programme with a car manufacturer. With years of experience under her belt, Rey is already earning a fair amount of money and has exceeded her twenty-five-year-old cousin in maturity.

So perhaps it’s a good idea for Kylo to take the threat to heart and listen to the nineteen-year-old. Yeah, it would be a good idea.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Kylo says with a smile, reaches behind himself, takes a cinnamon roll from amongst the pastries and ducks under Rey’s arm.

“I am serious, Kylo!” Rey shouts after him. “Being around that much pining is sickening!”  

Before either Rey or the can of whipped cream can reach Kylo, he is rushing out of the door of the café and running after Hux who is already half way across the courtyard.

Outside, there are strings of lightbulbs stretched from railing to railing of the two floors of Kingly Court, some coming to tangle in the neatly trimmed trees and raised poles for the pavilions that have been clear away for the sunlight to pour down. The crowds are building around the picnic tables where families are enjoying the rare spell of British summer warmth, raising a racket of voices.

Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, Hux disappears in the corridor that leads under the balconies of the stores on the second story. Behind him, Kylo is toeing his way around the arranged tables, almost bumping into a couple as he bites a chunk out of cinnamon roll that he snatched from the café.

Kylo manages to catch up with Hux as they pass through the narrow corridor onto which open high-end stores, wine bars and patisseries. The sunlight flickers and they enter an open space where a small café squashed between the walls sprawls out onto the path.

The corridor closes over them again and before suddenly opening out onto a narrow street crammed with cars and pedestrians. Above, the buildings are coloured vibrant blues, yellows and reds. There are shops squashed even into the smallest nooks and flowers spill from the arranged baskets above the heads of the passing crowds.

The heat is almost stifling under the direct sun that blinks through between the temporary shelters of the shadows thrown by the houses that form the curving knotted roads. They are fenced off sections of the sidewalks where construction is taking place, breathing dust out onto the pedestrians as they meander onto the main road leading to buildings with pillars and etched images of Greek figures.

Trailing after Hux, Kylo can’t turn his attention from the melted white icing that has dripped down onto his palms - gradually becoming disgustingly tacky. He could easily wipe his hands down on the front of the apron he is still wearing. However, watching Hux calmly walk in front of him – while typing on his phone and carefully avoiding other pedestrians – Kylo gets a better idea.

They are passing the National Gallery, the Trafalgar Square bustling at their right, and Kylo widens his step until he is breathing down on Hux’s neck.

“Oi, ginger,” Kylo calls out, almost stepping on Hux’s heels.

“Amazing, someone has finally adapted to the local vernacular,” snorts Hux, not even taking a moment to look up from his phone as he rounds to corner onto a road shadowed by a thick canopy of low trees.

However, Hux’s peaceful ignorance toward Kylo becomes quickly destroyed when two large grubby palms smack over his face. Hux almost shrieks when sticky fingers squish his face and almost cause him to drop his phone onto the pavement. 

Hux jabs an elbow behind him but before he can land a hit, two broad arms are wrapping around his waist and he is being hoisted up against a chest that is about as solid as a brick wall. Suddenly, the ground is gone from under Hux’s feet and the surroundings are hurtling forward as people dart out of the way.

With bit back screams of terror from Hux and laughter on Kylo’s part, they all but fall down the slope of the street, darting past the slow moving cars, past the houses, across road and onto the promenade in a haphazard mess of scrambling limbs. Cars honk and breaks screech as Kylo crashes against a low stone barrier, dropping Hux down onto as they both pant for breath.

Hux is almost tipping over the wall as below green water sloshes against algae carpeted stonework. Kylo slumps down beside him, still laughing, practically toppling to the floor when Hux punches him in the ribs.

A group of tourists passes them by, all looking oddly at Hux and Kylo from behind their tinted sunglasses. Cameras flash at the Thames and the piers as the group continues to shuffle along like a herd of geese while Hux tries to wrestle Kylo into a headlock.

Eventually, with a slap to the back of Kylo’s head, Hux shoves his hands back into his pockets and continues along the bank of the river. When he notices that Kylo isn’t following, he pauses and turns around.

Slumped on the wall of the promenade, Kylo looks dazed and out of breath as he smiles dopily.

“Come on then,” Hux calls after Kylo. “Dumb fuck.” With a sighs he turns and continues to walk. Scuffed footsteps soon begin to follow him.

By Embankment station there is a park that is no more than a plaza, several benches arranged around patches of flowers and an ice cream stall. With many offices crowded nearby people often gather in the park during their lunch breaks, looking like peacocks in their fancy suits and glossed shoes as they jab at their phones.

Hux had shown Kylo this place several years ago when he found out that the foreign kid, despite living in London for some time, knew nothing about the city after isolating himself as an undergraduate student. Hux made it his personal mission to use their breaks during their shifts at the café to show as much of London as he could in the limited time slot.

Out of all the places they visit, for some reason, this little scrap of a park managed to stick in Kylo’s mind. Perhaps it’s because he still finds it funny how the over pampered Londoners turn up their noses at the two twenty something year olds with coffee stains on their shirts. Or maybe it’s the ice cream and the memory of how Kylo shoved a cone of soft serve into Hux’s face and how about half an hour later they both came back to their shift at the café sticky with melted ice cream.

During those months of Hux dragging Kylo all over London, Kylo made the excuse of not knowing his way around the city to go to the park with Hux and sit on the steps beside the ice cream stall and eat overpriced soft serve. He continued to make the excuse for almost a year until Hux no longer needed a prompt to start making his way toward Embankment during his and Kylo’s shared break.

The park is more crowded than usual today; all of the benches are taken and the steps of the small plaza and the stall are crammed by people who are trying to find shelter from the sun that leaves the tarmac sweltering.

While trying to lick off the pink sprinkle covered melting mess from his right hand, with his left Hux passes Kylo’s own ice cream cone caked with blue sherbet. By the time they make it back across the street to the promenade Kylo has managed to scoff down the majority of the cone while Hux strategically aims for the parts that are melting the most.

On the water of the Thames ships pass by as trains stream from bank to bank across bridges. There is not a cloud in the sky and on above city the layer of smog is visible as a grey halo.

There is only a slight cover from the sun under the trees that line the promenade. With the evening ongoing, the heat is building and even Hux is beginning to melt under his calm composure – if the rolled up sleeves are anything to go by.

A breeze rushes over the water and up the wall, tousling Hux’s hair as he eats the last of the ice cream cone, watching the green water and the filth bobbing on its surface.

Turning around, Kylo hops onto the stone wall and swings his legs over so that they are hanging over the water. It’s rather easy for him to lift himself up on his forearms, press the flat of his feet on the vertical recline of the wall and lean forward until it seems like he is about to topple over the edge.

The first time Kylo pretended to tip himself off the wall of the promenade Hux caught him by the collar of his t-shirt and almost choked Kylo while dragging him back onto the pavement. Just to spite Hux, Kylo does it every time they are by the river bank.

However, this time Hux doesn’t seem to even notice as he stares vacantly at the opposite bank of the Thames.

Kylo reaches out and prods Hux’s on the shoulder. “What are you thinking about, space cadet?” Kylo smiles when Hux blinks at him blearily.

Hux turns back to the river and brushes his hands through his hair, combing it back from his face. Propping up his chin, Hux sighs and speaks softly, “My father called yesterday. He said he will be here for the graduation ceremony.”

Kylo looked at Hux with mild shock; Hux’s family is not a topic that is breached often with Kylo – hence the mutual respect in regard to Kylo not wanting to speak about his either.

“He must be proud of you,” Kylo says.

“You would think,” Hux smiles. “You should have heard him when I said that I am dropping out of Sandhurst. A waste of an opportunity… I know… for the sake or _architecture_.”

“What an actual waste of an opportunity is taking a creative writing course,” notes Kylo. He was proud of the choice he made as an undergraduate, but even Kylo has come to admit that it was a little stupid.

Hux laughs softly and glances at Kylo before sobering a little. “My father deserves a daughter like Phasma. She is climbing through the ranks in the army – just like he would have wanted me to.”

Kylo doesn’t say anything to that and instead looks to the river, swinging his legs absently as his heels knock against the bank wall. They will have to start walking back soon before the café gets too busy. After that, they will have another three hours on the shift.

With the final weeks of university approaching, Hux has placed a request to change his shift hours to accommodate his exams and hours to work on his research papers. Kylo is seeing him less and less and there is little excuse to meet Hux outside of work – they are not necessarily friends, or they would not like to admit it.

Kylo should do something; if he waits any longer he will just chicken out again and then it will be too late. Hux will be gone and Kylo will be moping and—

Something thumps softly against Kylo’s hip and he does his best not to flinch, tensing under a touch that is neither a punch to the kidney or a headlock that cuts off his air.

When Kylo looks down he sees the mop of ginger hair pressed against him. Hux’s eyes are closed, face peacefully content. It’s odd, considering who they both are, but Kylo accepts it easily.

Hux slumps a little and his head comes to rest on Kylo’s thigh, his calm breathing warm through the fabric of his jeans. “Kylo,” Hux murmurs.

“Hm?”

“There is ice cream on your face.”

Kylo hurriedly palms his chin and lips, and even though he doesn’t feel any of the ice cream, he takes the hem of his apron and scrapes it over his mouth – jostling Hux from where he rested.

“No, no.” Hux tugs the cloth from Kylo’s hands. “Come ‘ere. Let me”

Kylo leans down as Hux pushes upward on the tips of his toes, scrunching up the edge of Kylo’s apron as he roughly scrubs at his cheeks.

“How did you even manage to get it here…” Hux mutters and swipes his thumb over Kylo’s cheekbone. “For goodness sake.” Kylo’s face is taken by the jaw and pulled down closer.

“It’s fine, leave it,” protests Kylo. “I—I will just get rid of it later.” But Hux doesn’t move away.

They are so close now, and if Kylo was to tilt his head just so and lean in, covering the small gap between them, he could kiss Hux.

And yet, Kylo lingers for too long and the brief moment of courage slips away.

Suddenly, Hux stops his furious scrubbing and gives Kylo’s face a quick check, tipping it to each side. However, his eyes pause on Kylo’s lips for a beat too long and before Kylo can comprehend what is happening, Hux takes him by the chin and pushes himself up, filling what space there was between them.

It’s just a press of lips on lips, noses mushed into each other’s cheeks, the air quickly becoming too warm to try and breathe. It’s uncomfortable and the angle is far too awkward; with Kylo still sat on the wall facing the river Hux has to grip him by his shirt not to topple over as his feet begin to hurt from being balanced on the toes for too long.

It’s naïve and fumbling, but to them it feels like the world because, even if just for a moment, everything feels right.

They break apart, cheeks red, chests heaving. Hux doesn’t let go of Kylo, anchoring him down when he tries to pull away.

“You shouldn’t have done that…” Kylo breathes, not sure where to settle his eyes, trying his best not to look at how red Hux’s lips already seem.

“Why is that?” Hux asks, leaning in, teasing the distance between them.

“You are going to leave soon.”

“But I am here now.”

Kylo doesn’t resist when he is kissed again, only sighs when a tongue brushes over his lips, opening his mouth in reply and tasting the ice cream on Hux’s lips, smiling when he feels Hux’s nose brush against his own.

Somehow, it’s lazy and sweet and the sound of the traffic and the river becomes background music to the slow dance in which Kylo and Hux are circling. It’s almost too perfect, the feeling of Hux against him, the tug of his fist in Kylo’s clothes, but he remembers that this can’t last.

Kylo rest his hand on Hux’s thin wrist, gently pulling him away.

“What are you doing—” Hux looks at him confusion. “I thought—”

Before Hux can misunderstand, Kylo quickly kisses him but doesn’t allow the touch to linger.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Kylo begins, “because soon you are leaving, and I will still be here. You will have work and I will be doing— Whatever I’m doing.” He shrugs and let’s go of Hux’s wrist but doesn’t move away.

Hux frowns, slowly dropping his freed hand onto the stone wall. “This isn’t the eighteenth century, we will still be able to talk, and see each other. We won’t be that far—”

“You’ll be in _Edinburgh_.”

“It’s a very small country.”

“And when _I_ finish university?”

“There is still time before then.”

Kylo looks back to the river where a boat drifts by, raising waves behind it. “I should’ve said somethin’ earlier.”

“So should’ve I.”

A touch brushes over Kylo’s hand, soothing over the tensed white skin of his knuckles. Kylo relaxes his fingers, letting Hux’s slot between his own and securely lock together. Cocooned in the safety of Hux’s warmth, Kylo’s hand is gently squeezed in reassurance.

It should be odd, how they have managed to go from throwing punches at each other to acting like love sick teenagers. But with Hux nothing seems odd and if they have resigned to try and keep at this, maybe Kylo just has to accept to oddity that is known as Hux into which he managed to barrel face first.

“Come on.” Hux tugs at Kylo’s arm. “We should get going.”

Kylo doesn’t resist, letting himself be pulled.

At the end of the day, after the sweeping crowds of people have come and gone, Kingly Court is almost entirely empty. As the shutters are pulled down and the sky becomes a haze of blue and orange, only one café remains open, lit by the warm yellow hazy glow of a few strings of fairy lights pinned across the walls.

Chairs have been pushed toward a table circled by leather sofas under the sleek black frames of oversized photographs. There are empty cups and glasses and laughter soothes the summer air.

Rey is lying across a sofa, her ankles crossed and hair down from its braids and buns, her face is flushed with a smile. Across from her, Finn is trying hard to keep his eyes open as presses against Poe’s side who is talking animatedly about work, his hands illustrating his words. At Poe’s feet, there is a corgi in an orange vest with visibility stripes, sitting with its paws flopped out as it watches his owner intently.

The lights flicker on over the streets as the evening sets over the city, pulling a close to the day with the breath of calm after the rush of the passing hours.

But even with the arriving dark, somewhere the sun is only just beginning to burn as Kylo and Hux walk together through the streets. The smell of flowers fills the summer air as Hux leans against Kylo whose arm is wrapped around Hux’s waist, holding him close as they take the unhurried steps through the city.

Perhaps one day they will say goodbye, but that’s fine, because it won’t be forever.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
